Sinners
by CrazyZee
Summary: Angelica wasn't supposed to fall in love, nor was Klaus. To him, she was just one of those girls that falls in his bed to relieve him of what goes on that messed up mind of his. For her, he was just a drug to satisfy an addiction. There was supposed to be no feelings or attachments.
1. Chapter 1

_S_ __ _I_ __ _N_  
an immoral act considered to be a transgression against divine law.

"If our love is a sin,  
Then what are we but sinners?"

Sex permeated the air like smoke, thick and heavy.  
And all that could be heard were the laboured breaths, sheets moving against a rhythm and skin against skin. He was a vicious man, taking pleasure in every action as it fits him, and not anyone else's. It was about him, everything was about him, and will always be about him.

Some believed that Klaus Mikaelson is unable to love, between reigning terror and destruction there was no room for such silly feelings in his dark heart – or if he even had one.  
Contrary to those beliefs, Klaus Mikaelson does love, he is a passionate man. He was passionate in everything he does: from creating chaos, killing those who cross him and his family; to every stroke of his brush as it lay colours on the canvass.

Even in his own way of showing love to his family and those close to his heart, that it was destructive and chaotic – toxic, even.  
But between the both of us, there was just the need and lust, nothing more and nothing less.

Reaching my sweet release, I breathe for air to calm the wild heart drumming against my chest as it relished in the high. He kept on until he reached his own satisfaction. Burying his face on the crook of my neck, he sinks his fangs on my skin and drawing blood that flowed like wine on his mouth. Of course, it wasn't just actions in the sheets. What good is there in sex if you were quiet as a mute after?

He would rant and rave about things I didn't care about and people, whose names nor faces I haven't seen nor have any knowledge of.

"And now this werewolf is pregnant with my child, whilst my ever noble brother goes out of his way to protect her, believing that the child would be my redemption," he says, drinking from his glass as we sat on the bed.

Letting out a breath, I opened the windows and let the cold air in. Not like we even felt nor need the heat. Lighting a cigarette, I placed it between my lips then blew out the smoke, reminding me of hazy dreams and dragons. Of course, this was the part where Klaus would sigh, before saying, "Angelica, love, can you even refrain from smoking?"

"Why? It's not like it could kill me," I say to him, running a hand through my ash blonde tresses, as I continue to look out the busy city across the river. "Yes, but the smell is not something I'd like to catch, love"

"And I don't like werewolf venom running in my veins," I replied, glaring at him.

Turning back to the open window, I tap the cigarette on the ash tray I leave by the sill, the sound of the city across the river was all jazz and cars; people talking and beating hearts thumping against their chest as the lights shine in darkness.  
"And now I plan to take my kingdom back, from a vampire I sired hundreds of years ago." Standing from the bed, he started to pick the clothes strewn on the floor carelessly.

"I plan to dismantle it, but before that I have to learn the inner workings. How does he control the witches, the humans and, as I recall, there used to be werewolves prowling about the Quarter?" Donning on his jacket, he looked through the mirror.  
"After that, I'll take it right out of his hands, but first he needs to trust me. He's been on guard the moment I stepped on the French Quarter, for that to happen I have to give him a token of trust," he said, turning to me with an evil smile, mischief dancing in his blue orbs. I raised a brow as I blew out another puff of smoke, I returning a smirk. "Then I might fancy a home here," I hummed, walking towards the man as I traced a line from his heart to his chest, biting my bottom lip as I looked at him in the eye.

"Imagine what it would be like, to live in a city of music and art, under the reign of the Klaus Mikaelson."

Looking down at me with a smirk, he brushed a strand of hair back to my ears. "You will not remember any words exchanged, between you and I," he said, pupils dilating as the memory erased itself from my mind until our next meeting. Blinking, I realized it was done and he had to go, but he will be back – he always comes back.

In some sort of odd way, no matter how long we part or no matter what road we take we – Klaus and I – always end up in the same situation of tangled limbs and messed up sheets. 

This is us, Klaus Mikaelson and Angelica Summers.

To him I was just someone to relieve him of what goes on that messed up mind of his.  
And to me he was just another drug to satisfy my addiction.


	2. Chapter 2

_We may not have the same demons in our heads, but one can understand darkness. For darkness is darkness, unlike many it does not differ.  
_  
●●●

I can still remember that day, as if everything has happened just yesterday.  
I remember my mother - Magdalena - beautiful like every woman in a brothel should be. Her blonde hair and full lips, always painted red like the roses that grew on the noble men's garden.  
I remember the owner of the brothel as my father figure, Peter.

I remember what I was, I am, and what I always will be no matter how much time passed. A bastard child of a noble man (someone I never bothered to find) who will eventually be just like her mother.

At a young age I was taught how to pleasure men, in any way I can. I peaked trough the holes in the walls that Peter told me about.  
"It's better to start off early," he said with a gentle voice, eyes looking straight at my once innocent ones. My mother held me by the shoulder a smile plastered on her beautiful face. Nodding, giving me a silent message. ' _He's right. Listen to Peter, Angelica. We know what's best for you.'_  
And I was the child who obeyed them, believing that they were right.

Then there came a day, like no other.  
Every girl was dolled up, there were colours flying everywhere. People, running from room to room, cleaning up every crevice of the house.

I was dolled up, too. Hair combed and styled in place, dress cleaned into pure white that made me glow like an angel, skin scrubbed until it was raw. Clean.

You see, Peter had little birds flying around the city. They, too, were born in the brothel or picked up from the streets. Genders made a big difference in our work - unless, of course, said boy was an unusual (someone who sleeps with men.) There were some noble men that asked for boys, they were unusual, but their secret was kept within the house.

His ears were always listening to their songs – taking in the important once, and in exchange he gave them their reward. He taught me how, believing that one day, I would be the one to teach his heir – if something were to happen to him.

"Niklaus Mikaelson has a taste for women with fair hair," they said.  
So every blonde were lined up.  
"Kol Mikaelson likes women who could give him a magical time."  
So the best were lined up, too.

I wasn't nervous as I stood in line - no, unlike some of the girls, I was excited. Prepared. Ready. All my life, I've been taught this, only this. My world revolved around the huge house, where beautiful women reside and shared their bed with different men of high stature, a house that walls had holes you could peak through, the rooms filled with creaking noises and moans. That is my world.

I was excited. Prepared. Ready. For the first time I would lay with someone in bed. The people in there would told me, that I was to be sold in a favourable price for being pure.

My palms were sweaty, and my heart thundered against my chest like beating drums. The door opened, slowly. I was counting down the seconds until I would be able to see the nobles. Not just any nobles, the Mikaelsons. There was Peter, holding the door, with that friendly smile he plastered on his face every time he welcomed someone of power. Everything about this seemed inviting, a safe haven where you would go to when troubled.

 _" .Breath. Calm down and smile," I told myself._

 _I can still remember the moment_ our eyes clashed, for the first time.

A coming storm against the deep sea. One could imagine how romantic it would have been, like electricity coursing and shocking every nerve in my body. Time slowing down as the man approached you. Some could even say that they felt something telling them. _"Him. He is the one."_

But there was none of that, just the sheer amount of curiosity of a feral animal as it chose its next prey in a slaughter house.  
And I was that unsuspecting prey.

"Niklaus Mikaelson have a taste for blonde women", the birds whispered into Peter's ears.  
But they never said, "Also touch of fiery passion in their eyes, and a pinch of darkness in their hearts."

To sum it all up, I was a blonde girl who, like everyone else at that time of their childhood, had a pure heart (as they say.) But the people were wrong. The hybrid - I didn't know which side of him, the vampire or the wolf - could smell it, the looming darkness in everyone's heart.  
The very darkness we wish to hide, in any way possible.

He could smell it in my veins, pumping to and from my yet to be tainted heart. He could see it behind the grey clouds in my eyes. There was no sunshine there, there was no rainbow after a storm, just the darkness of the night as he made it grew deeper.

"Do you remember the day, when everything began for you?"  
The man beside me asked as he blew another puff of smoke into the air.

"Yes, I can still remember that day," I answer, taking his joint. The fire burned the stick to white ashes; smoke dancing in the air.


	3. Chapter 3

The French quarter, really, had much to offer. The people were bustling, alcohol was flowing in the streets, and art was littered at every corner. It had its own set of colours and sounds. It was as if the city, itself, was living, breathing – alive.

And to Angelica's delight the party was just about to begin. It was mid afternoon, the supernatural creatures hiding within the city's dark crevices were soon to come out and play. Blood was going to flow; making the alcohol even more intoxicating. She wasn't ashamed of her addictions – whether it be blood, alcohol or sex – rather Angelica embraced it, as it was part of her.

The lights: blue and red, flashing from the ceiling, barely made it possible for humans to see what was really happening. Not that they were even coherent enough. They were already either too drunk or light headed from the blood loss, to take any notice of what was really happening.

As for Angelica, the woman successfully made it to the bar without any interruptions. As much as she wanted to meet the king of New Orleans, she had prior needs for the night. "Enjoying the party?" A man, stood beside her.

Angelica just hummed, swirling her drink, before turning towards him. He wasn't such an eyesore, like the other humans in the place. The man stood a foot taller than her, dark hair, blue eyes and just the right tan.

"I'd enjoy it more, maybe..." she trailed off, walking to the dance floor with a seductive smile. Of course, the human was soon to follow like a dog chasing a bone.

And the next thing was, as much as the mind would permit the human to remember: sweaty bodies dancing against each other, hands fumbling with clothes, in haste to take it off, exchange of sloppy kisses, and of course, the pleasure of blood and sex. It was early morning; the sun was to almost rise, when the high slowly ebbed away.  
"Dante's Inferno?" the man asked, picking up the book on her bed side table. The blonde hummed in answer. Angelica didn't mind that the man was looking through her table; she was almost too lost in her thoughts to even pay attention to what was happening around her, but his chuckles brought her out of it.

"I expected you to be more into the teen fiction these days"  
"Why? Can't a girl like classics? Think about afterlife – heaven and hell? Or are they too deep for us to comprehend?"  
"No..." He smiles, brushing some stray locks away from her face.

"It's the alcohol..." He kissed her lips.

"The drugs..." Then her neck,

"And sex," he says barely above whisper, nibbling her ear.

It was already afternoon when the blonde finally rose from her slumber. Staring at the man's peaceful face as he slept, she remembered that she had forgotten to ask for a name. Well, she could deal with that later, at breakfast, she thought to herself before going to the kitchen.  
It was not that she needed food to survive, being a vampire and all. It was the normalcy of the action. When humans do mundane things; their minds tend to wander off to different places that were the same for vampires – or for her, if she was even considered to be normal vampire.

Through these she was able to think of what to write, she has been unable to write lately, losing inspiration every now and then. It was the commonly known as writer's block, but she partly blames the move to the Quarter. She was adjusting as fast as she could; after all, Klaus is just around the corner. And together they are a volatile mixture.

But alas! The peace she enjoys now, could only last for so long – 3 hours max for today. She had an important person to meet, or as long as these person would remain important, but she didn't want to take her chances.

When a Angelica settles in a new place, as much time has passed, she makes it so that she is introduces herself to the reigning community. Everything is territorial, as they say.  
It was a pack for the wolves and a coven for the witches, whilst kingdoms for the vampires.

Either way all of these does not take kindly to strangers. So before they come knocking in her doorstep, she'd rather knock on theirs first to save everyone the trouble.

It was already mid afternoon when Angelica arrived in the compound to meet Marcel, the current king of New Orleans. Vampires lurked the vicinity as they prepared to what seemed to be another party. Funny how no one took notice of the new comer, partying with them the night before.

Some turned to look at the blonde woman who stood in their doorstep whilst others just ignored her. It wasn't long before she was approached by a dark man; he had that air of arrogance that did not bode well with her.

"Who and what are you doing here?" Puffing a breath of smoke from her lit cigar, she observed the man, now that he was close, from head to toe. This is not Marcel, she thought.

"I'm here for Marcel, heard he runs the place." The woman looked around, but sensed the tensing of the vampire's shoulders at her words, ready to attack any moment she made a wrong move.

As if she would, if there's one thing that annoyed her, the most, it was senseless fighting. Her sire taught her to fight, but he also taught her to be a warrior, in her code a meaningless fight is a waste of time and energy. Also the supernatural politics was the least of her concerns, she was contented in living a mundane life, so she didn't really care who or what ruled the place as long as she remains unnoticed.

"Diego! Invite the lovely lady in." Another one appears from the balcony, a grin on his face showing his pearly whites. Unlike the first one - this one, Marcel - one would easily guess, had that inviting aura around him. If someone had a brain then they would know that these types were the ones you steer clear of.

They're like traps, waiting patiently for their prey to walk close enough before they bite your head off. They're the ones who will welcome you with open arms, smiles, and even nice treats. Then in bed, whilst you sleep, they'll stab you in the chest.

Angelica was itching to get out of this place. She didn't originally plan to stay long. She wanted to stroll through the streets at night to enjoy the music and art the "Big Easy" had to offer.

How oddly suspicious this is for Marcel, of course one could not blame the man for being cautious at times like this. His sire was suddenly back, and then a new face arrives at his doorstep. If one would have the time to look at the bigger picture then there had to be a connection somewhere.

"So..." Marcel began, clapping his hands together to look at the blonde woman. "Why is a beauty like you looking for me?" Flashing her one of his charming smiles, he invited her to his office – of sorts.

Pouring them a glass of bourbon, Marcel waited for the stranger's reply. "I am planning to stay in the Quarter for some years," she answered, straight to the point. "I didn't want to cause trouble so I thought introductions, we're in order." She took the glass he offered, taking a sip before puffing another round of smoke.

"Then let me be the first to tell you, welcome to New Orleans," he replied, the heavy atmosphere slowly dissipating. She didn't think it would be wise to tell that he was second to welcome her, Klaus already did.


	4. Chapter 4

" **You're my mortal flaw  
And I'm your fatal sin"**

Klaus was painting like he had no care of the world; everything around him turned into nothing more but lifeless blurs. In his world, however, there was just him and his Venus. This setting often happened, quite recently.

Even young Angelica had noticed. The young lord would call upon her, not just to lie in bed but to also do other activities. He was even painting her a nude as of now, and mercy on any man who will ever see that painting. Klaus would be damned had any soul knew he was spending so much of his time with a whore.

"Tell me, did you ever got to walk outside or lay with another man?" Klaus asked, out of the blue. Angelica was in thought though, scrunching up her brows as she tried to think on how to answer that question. Granted, his curiosity for her upbringing, but the later, he was supposed to know the answer. After all, he did pay handsomely for her company.

"I had walked on the fields behind the house, but I have never strayed beyond it, my lord," the blonde replies, as she tried to keep still. He was practicing his art, or that's what excuse he said to paint her – to which she accepted, as if anyone would draw her out of love. Love was something beyond her; she didn't have time for silly games like that.

"You are aware that you are the one who took my innocence...Klaus," She says his name with a low, seductive voice, that made him groan. Dropping the brush and paint, he briskly made his way towards her. So it seems the night is still young for the two.

Angelica, it seems was developing a craving, she was not easily satisfied, but Klaus would happily comply. In fact, it was to his advantage that she had these cravings. He did not easily tire of her.

But the original didn't understand, whatever it is that made him crave her company – what allure she held over him, that made his so fascinated, even over her smallest quirks. He knew the young woman was nothing but a passing fancy, a girl who was brought up in a whore house. Maybe it was how she kept her innocence despite of the tainted place, or how she somehow keeps it up until now. How? He might never know.

But hidden behind those stormy eyes, Klaus knew there was something sleeping – hiding – in there. Someone the world has yet to see of her. The Mikaelson sees immense potential in her, Angelica had the eye for art and death, and Klaus Mikaelson was sure of it.

She was a human, deserving the gift of immortality.

Only few, in his lifetime, had he met people of that stature. Some were given eternity as a form of punishment, and so they withered away with their fantasies of revenge. As much as Klaus would have turned Angelica already, he also understood the season for maturity – it was still too soon, he had laid the perfect plan for her.

Elijah, of course, the ever noble brother disapproves of his actions, as of late. In Klaus' defence he should be happy – in a way – he was not causing mayhem nor was he making someone's life a living hell, instead he was cooping in his room, although not so quietly.

It was another dinner with his siblings, despite of being vampires with no need for food; Elijah kept it a tradition to eat as a family – or what is left of it. However with Kol out of his confinement, as much as Elijah loved his sibling, the bickering that was to ensue was sure to be thrice.

He was walking towards the dining area when he accidentally bumped into her, whoever this girl was. "I am so sorry, my lord. I was not looking where I had been going" She bows her head to him, blonde hair covering her face,

Ever the gentleman, "It is quite alright, I have not been looking to where I was going too," he replies, sending her back into her merry way. Upon further looking at her, Elijah had realised that the girl was his brother's toy, or whatever it is the Klaus likes to call her. She seems...Elijah couldn't continue his thought as he heard Kol's door open.

"Dare say that you are growing attached to your play thing, Nik," Kol jabs his brother. The statement caught Elijah's attention, he was thinking about quite a lot these past few days. He had seen the girl, once in his brother's bedroom, sleeping. Which was odd, to Elijah's knowledge, Klaus never lets anyone sleep in his bed...not unless said girl is his lover. And second was when they had bumped into each other, earlier.

The only time they had converse was earlier, Elijah thought of her as nothing more but a whore his brother would soon tire off and then kill. To which he would not have minded much, as she was nothing more but a whore. But as of recent events, Elijah suspected there was something more into it. The girl had already been alive for 6 months with Klaus, some does not even last a week. And he is yet to tire of her.

"As much as I would have liked to deny that accusation, Kol, my play thing is quite interesting," was Klaus' reply as he drank from his goblet. "Tell me then, dear brother, have you found any witches to pacify you?" he adds smugly, as if he got an interesting gift that would last his attention for months, compared to that of Kol's.

"You know I can never be tamed, brother. And yet you seem to settle with one whore, as of late."

Rebekah remains quite through the whole ordeal, which caught Elijah's attention from the whole bickering that had become of Klaus and Kol. His little sister has never been this quiet, unless she had done something, or hiding a secret – most likely another man. Either way he would soon find out. He always does, his sibling rarely does something without his knowledge, of course.

His thoughts, however, drifts once more to this mystery girl; he was sure she was neither a witch nor a wolf. No she was way worst, a fragile human. He fears that history may repeat itself, in case that Klaus begins to feel deeply for this girl. He does not want a repeat of Aurora, in the form of this blonde girl.

Mikael is still after their heads and thus they cannot afford another addition. And what is to become of this girl, once she learns of what they really are? Vampires who kill for survival and sport.

Yes, she would be quite a trouble indeed.

 **/UNEDITED/**

 **A/N: Sooo...it took longer than I expected, my writer's block I mean. But it's here! Finally! Anyway it's my summer vacation so expect fast updates (as fast as I can)**


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